


Peter Parker: Professional Photographer

by A_chaotic_person



Series: The Paparazzi Thing [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Photographer Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, briefly touches infinity war/endgame but i didnt touch ffh yet, canon is what you make of it, i also dont know how instagram works, i dont know if photography clubs exit, i think those are the only characters who speak so they're the only ones who get tagged, kind of hints of pre-mj/peter bc that's pure, this was gonna be crack then it kinda wasn't, we stan aunt may in this house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:21:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_chaotic_person/pseuds/A_chaotic_person
Summary: “You should get an Instagram.”“Huh?”MJ skillfully raised her eyebrows without unsquinting her eyes and accidentally looking interested in anything that’s happening in her immediate vicinity. “Get Instagram.”“I’ve got Instagram?”“Stop posting your lame nerd stuff and post your pictures then.”
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: The Paparazzi Thing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535363
Comments: 18
Kudos: 724
Collections: Social Media Fics





	Peter Parker: Professional Photographer

“Join a club,” Aunt May had said.

“You need more extracurriculars,” Aunt May had said.

“Don’t you want to do something outside of Academic Decathlon?” she’d said.

“I’m busy,” he’d said to her. “Y’know, thwip thwip?”

Aunt May had given him a look over the edges of her round glasses. “Peter…”

Peter shrunk a little, because what she _didn’t_ say was this:

_“It’d be a relief to have a little more time where you aren’t putting yourself in danger.”_

_“Please, take up something that isn’t potentially lethal.”_

_“Stop skipping AcaDec to patrol. Stay on the ground just a little longer.”_

Peter sighed. “I’ll look for something new,” he’d huffed, and didn’t mention the extra hour he’d add to patrol at the end of the day. She doesn't have to worry even more. 

* * *

Band was out. He’d taken band to get the art credit he needed to graduate—it was preferable to drama (and oh _god_, the thought of being confident and in front of people without his mask was a terrifying one) and the visual arts class—and besides, it was weird to rejoin something after quitting abruptly in the middle of the season. Goodbye trombone, you were only good for memes anyways.

Unfortunately, by his own logic, he couldn’t rejoin Robotics Club, no matter how ecstatic Ned would be about his return. Maybe it wouldn’t matter—the blip _had_ ensured half the members were gone—but still.

He stumbled across the photography club entirely by accident. He hadn’t even known Midtown had a photography club. The school was still a STEM school; not STEAM with an A for art.

Cindy Moon gave him a nod when he entered the art room for the first time. It was weirdly round, layers of levels and cluttered desks surrounding a cleared area highlighted by a spotlight. A student stood at a table by a little door in the back of the room, feverishly brushing a board with some kind of glue.

The art teacher squinted at him from her desk near the spotlit area, not recognizing him from any of her classes. “Did you need something?”

Peter swallowed; that big fluffy updo was terrifying. “Uh—I’m Peter. I was wondering if I can join the photography club?”

The art teacher stood, and Peter struggled to remember her name. It was vaguely Italian sounding, he knew that.

“Do you have a camera?”

“Huh?”

“Photography club takes pictures at school events, among other things. Do you have a camera?”

“I’ve got a phone?” He tried, and hunched over at the unimpressed look she gave him.

“You need a _real_ camera, and you need to know how to use it. I recommend taking photography class…”

“My semester’s full,” he blurted.

She stared down her nose at him, squinting while she fumbled for the glasses that hung around her neck from a chain.

He took a step back and stumbled over a sealed bucket of unused clay.

The door handle turned inaudibly, sneakers squeaking before they hit the stained floor of the art room.

Thankfully, the art teacher’s attention was diverted. “Michelle,” she started.

“Hey Mrs. DeStefano,” MJ flashed a peace sign, a sketchbook tucked under her arm. She smirked at Peter. “Dork. What’re you in the art room for?”

“Photography club,” the art teacher—Mrs. DeStefano—dismissed. “He hasn’t got a camera.”

MJ eyed him obviously, before plopping down at a desk and flipping her sketchbook open and continuing to eye him more subtly. “He’ll get one. I’ll make sure he knows how to use it.”

Peter gaped at that, but Mrs. DeStefano moved right on. He was beckoned to her desk and she finally managed to perch her glasses on her nose. She shuffled some papers around meaninglessly and nearly offered him a pen, before apparently deciding he wasn’t competent enough for that and kept it for herself.

Peter watched her flip through some forms and tried not to think of wrist-watch strap and film canister webshooters, web fluid made in third period chem class, and computers built from scavenged dumpster parts. _How was he supposed to get a good camera?_

“Last name?”

“Peker. Parter. Parker. Uh, I’m Peter Parker.” His face burned.

Mrs. DeStefano gripped the pen a little tighter between her fingers and sighed.

* * *

Never mind that Mr. Stark had helped Peter and May get a new apartment after they lost theirs in the blip, never mind the work <strike>Ms. Potts</strike> <strike>Mrs. Stark</strike> Pepper had done to find them some “_practical_ furniture, Tony, don’t be ridiculous, they don’t need hovering _chairs_,” and never mind the work that Happy had done to assist May with her program to help people displaced by the blip after she lost her job at the hospital.

Peter couldn’t ask for anything else. He _couldn’t_.

“Hey kid, May told me you’re into photography now.”

“I mean, I just joined a club, it’s not really-”

Mr. Stark tossed a camera at Peter that he would’ve fumbled if not for his reflexes. Peter had only done minimal research on cameras (enough to know it would take a lot of saving to get one barely decent), but he could tell this was a _nice_ camera.

“Mr. Stark…”

“I expect amazing pictures of my daughter, Parker,” Mr. Stark said, and didn’t say _thank god, a hobby that doesn’t involve being stabbed_, but he did toss a camera bag with more parts at him, and with Mr. Stark that was kind of the same thing.

“Hey dweeb.” MJ was quite suddenly beside him. He loved it when his super cool early danger warning sense didn’t warn him of dangerous things—girls. Dangerous girls. “You better know how to use that camera.” She stared impassively at him while he floundered and nodded. “Good.”

This was, in fact, her way of making sure he knew how to use it.

Photography club… was not that bad. Actually, Peter really liked it. Yeah, it was frustrating when people got in the way of his shot, or moved out of the shot when he wanted them there, but he couldn’t really do anything about it.

He still wasn’t really sure how photography club was a club. He was starting to suspect it more of a class, but you never saw the other students.

Mrs. DeStefano was still entirely unimpressed, though a little more assured of his competency.

“I gave your shots to the newspaper. They weren’t quite… artistic enough. An admirable use of reflections, but the photo itself is more political commentary than social commentary.”

Her stare told him that she was aware he didn't quite know the difference.

Peter quit photography club and joined the newspaper instead.

He told Aunt May it’s because he’ll always get picked first to take pictures at school events.

He didn’t tell her it’s because he’s afraid of Mrs. DeStefano, especially after the pop-can camera incident that got him kicked out of the darkroom. He didn’t really feel like talking about the pop-can camera incident either.

The newspaper was nicer, but if all editors-in-chief are like that, constantly yelling for pictures to go with the articles, he didn’t really think it’s a great career choice.

MJ cornered him in the lunchroom. Well. He was sitting by Ned, and she sat across from them rather than five seats down, and he couldn’t move without warding her off, probably, and that was basically the same thing as cornering him.

“Dude,” Ned whispered to him while she scrutinized them—just Peter, actually.

“Dude,” he whispered back, afraid to look away from her and terrified of what will happen if he stared at her for too long. He did stare too much once, and not only did she verbally tear him apart, but he also noticed that she was kind of pretty, and maybe he should find some nice light and take a picture of her-

“You should get an Instagram.”

“Huh?”

MJ skillfully raised her eyebrows without unsquinting her eyes and accidentally looking interested in <strike>him</strike> anything that’s happening in her immediate vicinity. “Get Instagram.”

“I’ve got Instagram?”

“Stop posting your lame nerd stuff and post your pictures then.”

Ned sputtered, offended she called their nerd stuff ‘lame.’ She cast a glance at him, and he quieted.

“Instagram may be a terrible societal norm that pressures people to look good all the time, but it’s not completely terrible for spreading artist’s work, even if there _are_ all sorts of art thieves on there.” She shrugged and pulled a book from her bag.

“Art thieves?” Ned mouthed.

Peter shook his head at him helplessly. “MJ, they’re just pictures. I don’t really see the point in posting them online-”

MJ’s puffy side bangs and eyes appeared over the top of her book. Then she—no way, she _closed the book_. She didn’t put a bookmark in. Leaning forward conspiringly, she grinned. “I know about the pop-can camera incident,” she threatened.

Oh, god. The master of hell was on earth, and she sat three seats behind him in second period English and across from him at lunch, apparently.

* * *

That night, @pbpparkour became @pbpphotographs.

It wasn’t really supposed to happen. He gained some followers and a fair amount of likes. Except-

@yeeyeetmfers said: how did you get on the very top of lady liberty’s crown lol

@hahaidothat said: ik you used to be called parkour but I didn’t think you could get that high damn

@uhohstinky said: Isn’t that building privately owned by some old rich person?

@kaileeeee4569 said: fuck yeah, stick it to the old people

@lemmegetuhhhhh said: the birds work for the bourgeoisie

Hm.

Well, when in doubt, create a bigger problem.

“Hey Morgan, is it okay if I post a picture of your dad on Instagram?”

Technically, Mr. Stark had already said yes, but also technically he had been up for thirty plus hours when Peter asked, so.

Morgan happily clicked three blurry pictures of the kitchen, of him, of her hand.

“Okay!” she chirped. You gotta post one of mine too, though. And also one of me dressed as Captain Thor Spider Widow-Witch Woman.”

Right. Captain Thor Spider Widow-Witch Woman. With only one hyphen.

He was not gonna post pictures of her at all without asking Mr. Stark and Pepper, but he frankly would be honored to get a picture of such a costume, especially since he and Thor were the only two male heroes she added to it.

That night, a picture of Mr. Stark gently patting DUM-E as the bot tried to offer him a fire extinguisher was posted to @pbpphotographs.

Three days later, a blurry picture of a child’s hand went up, accompanied by a picture of a five-year-old girl wearing a Spider-Man suit with the Captain Marvel symbol taped over the spider. She carried a hammer in one hand, the other rested on her red hourglass belt. She grinned, even as she drowned in the large red jacket.

It was captioned: _younger sister was too proud of this pic not to upload it. it’s a masterpiece!!!!! <3<3<3_

It’s a late Decathlon practice when MJ saw the picture of Morgan. He lifted his camera and got a quick shot of her, light from the window behind her made her a mere silhouette, but the glow of her phone just illuminated a soft smile.

Peter hung it up between a still of Ned, triumphant, just after destroying Peter in MarioKart, and a rushed picture of Aunt May on the phone with the Vietnamese place a few blocks down even as she dumped out another failed attempt at a casserole. He considered them, and the ones of his other family, and thought that photography was pretty okay.

There’s a fake drawer to his desk firmly webbed shut at all times, pictures of Clint and Double D chilling in a dumpster, Falcon tripping the Winter Soldier and running away, Natasha discreetly high-fiving Wanda and Shuri partially out of frame, Mr. Stark and T’Challa front, center, and noticeably drenched. This is the blackmail drawer, and nobody has to know it exists.

<strike>Black Widow probably knows because she's Natasha fucking Romanoff, but that's besides the point.</strike>

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't proof read whoop. We love impulse posting.  
Should I work on Adventures of Karen and Peter (like coming up with a better title oof)? Yeah but i don't want to right now. Anyways, let me know how I did, thanks for reading!


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